The Pakistani man complained: the weather in Britain is intolerable; clouds follow you like your shadow; winter is long and grim; cold bites; the sun is an impostor that promises to appear then vanishes like a thief; taxes are an insatiable beast; and high prices are like taxes.

It is a boring country indeed, one where TV screens are busy showing the story of a child who drowned in the river; an old woman who died alone; the persistence of gay people to acquire fully their rights; an MP who invited his wife for lunch at the expense of taxpayers.

The absence of excitement is killing. There is none of that vitality that characterizes our countries, none of that fiery blood. Voters go to elections and accept the results. The loser congratulates the winner and pledges to hold him accountable in Parliament. He does not accuse the winner of fraud; he does not question the legitimacy of the results; he does not take to the streets and tear out sidewalks and windows. The Prime Minister leaves office and gets ready to write his memoir. No General dares to look down on the people and claim he is the savior.

Our countries are different – they offer thrills and excitement. Military men and civilians alternate power with the same greediness. This one is characterized by domination, that other by corruption. Many of them gather glory by its ends. Our countries always offer you surprises: a military coup, civil disobedience, the return of civilians, governmental crises, tentacle-like intelligence services. They change their leader but not their greediness. An established corrupt man pledges to fight corruption – he speaks about virtue and plunders with golden fingers. Parties are rotting with the hungry and the thirsty; with family or sectarian or regional partisanship.

Each year, he packs his bags and claims he will leave. He is tired of exile. He wants to listen to his native language, smell the soil, and feel the music infiltrate his body. He wants a country that resembles him, with its culture, its values, its food. He says he wants to leave, but he doesn’t.

He sits in front of the TV. A suicide bomber blows himself up here, another one there. There are kidnappings and killings. The army raids and Taliban responds. A bomb explodes in the market, another in the convoy of another sect, and a third in army barracks. He feels angry. Where does this river of suicide bombers come from? Is the function of schools to trap students? Recently he has felt that Pakistan is sliding towards the abyss. This country has drawn its life and policy against an enemy called India. It has fallen today in what is more serious.

The Pakistani man expresses his pain loudly. He tells his interlocutor: do you know what it means for Pakistan to fall in the hands of Taliban? The issue simply implies to take back the country to the pre-electricity era. Darkness will prevail over cities and books. The country will go back to abysmal ages. Investors will run away and seasons will be annihilated.

He said that Pakistan is perplexed. It wants the US umbrella for fear of India. It wants the US weapons but it also wants Taliban at the same time. It wants a card inside the Afghan territory. The card went back to the inside and blew up. However, Taliban is not the only problem. The country has been ailing ever since its independence. Its blood has been lost between the greediness of military men and the corruption of civilians.

The weather is bad in Britain, but I have to admit that this country treats me better than my own country. No one threatens me or despises me. My freedom is respected and my dignity is protected by the law. The police do not use violence against me for no reason and do not dare fake my statement. I do not fear a civil war for my children and I do not have to keep moving because of the constant upheavals.

Each time I pack my bags, I end up changing my mind. I feel that my country has turned into a trap for its citizens and I’m afraid to risk the rest of my life and the children who have gotten used to accepting and respecting the other. I ponder and I feel torn. We go into exile and our countries go into the abyss. We talk about returning but we do not return. I feel sick, and that my country is sick.

I heard the Pakistani man’s story and I was touched. I’m lucky to come from a stable country, where the law is above all; where there is no civil strife and no place for the corrupt, the greedy, and the prostrated. Generals in my country do not like the presidential palace, and civilians are entrusted with the funds and fates of people. Also, political legacy is out of the question. No one forcefully appoints their son or punishes the country with their son-in-law. Competence is the only standard. It is a great country where it is suitable to reserve a tomb.